


like a hummingbird

by ang3lba3



Series: A Game of Dragons and Wolves [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, F/M, M/M, Pack Mother Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 22:32:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2205456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ang3lba3/pseuds/ang3lba3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Gods,</em> he thought. <em>Gods, I am so fucked.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	like a hummingbird

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crossroadswrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossroadswrite/gifts).



“Stiles. It’s gonna be fine. Hell, I’d bang you if I wasn’t you know. Straight. And you weren't engaged.”

“Shut up.” Stiles said, fidgeting nervously. “Oh my God, he’s not going to want me. I look ridiculous.”

“He _sent_ you the outfit. Where’d he get your sizes anyway?”

“Deaton.” Stiles said, staring at his body in the long mirror.

He was thin, far too thin for the amount of food he consumed - but that was partially the magic. Using it burned up a lot of energy and with it fat. His bones were all sticky-outy and obvious. Stiles tried to focus on the positive - the way the deep red contrasted beautifully against his skin. The clothing itself was too tight to be decent, more lingerie than actual clothing. The pants laced up along the sides, glimpses of skin in between the ribbons. The top was much the same, corset style that left his throat bare and long.

Flipping the red hood up, Stiles couldn’t help but snort - at least the Alpha he’d sold himself to had a sense of _humor._

Scott placed a hand on his older stepbrother’s shoulder and squeezed.

“Hey.” he said gently. “It’s all worth it to get home, right?”

“Yeah.” Stiles sighed, tipping his head back to stare at the glass dome of a ceiling. “Yeah, it is.”

Their families had been slaughtered in the rebellion, destroyed by Deucalion and his merry band of blood and black magic using mages. Deaton managed to steal Scott and Stiles away through the hidden passageways. Stiles had been learning how to focus his energy in the form of levitating paperweights, and Scott had been learning how to do long division.

Once on the ship leaving the city he slipped into a kind of trance - his spark instinctively guiding him back to see his father and stepmother one more time.

He could still hear them screaming when he closed his eyes.

But with the help of the Alpha’s army - pack, whatever, there were thousands of them so he was totally allowed to call them an army - he could retake the throne, retake his home, and most importantly murder the _shit_ out of Deucalion.

“Stiles.”

And _there_ was Deaton.

“It’s time.”

-

It surprised absolutely no one that Stiles was fidgeting like a hummingbird, muttering under his breath and flailing a little every time he thought of something distressing.

Which was rather often.

It was always a bit confusing/disturbing to see Stiles slip into True King mode. His spine straightened, his head raised high but not high enough to bare his throat, body still and dignified. And now, with only a minute before the Alpha was scheduled to arrive, Stiles transformed from a spastic boy to a regal King.

The Alpha practically melted out of the shadows of the forest, his most trusted pack surrounding him. They were wild looking, dressed in sparse furs and leather.

Stiles could barely bring himself to look at the Alpha at first, instead focusing on his companions. The one to his right was a stunning dark haired woman with high cheekbones and a small smirk in her late twenties, and beside her a blond girl who didn’t look that far from his own age. On the other side was a curly haired teenage boy who strongly resembled the ancient statues by Michelangelo in Westeros, and next to the boy was a dark skinned man built like an entirely different kind of statue, the kind holding a severed head and representing the God of War.

It was inevitable that he look at the Alpha, he knew that, and he’d procrastinated long enough. He swallowed as quietly as he could, but in the silence of the courtyard it was louder than a scream.

The first thing he did was thank all the Gods, because he’d gotten unbelievably lucky. He dug his fingernails into his palms to make sure he wasn’t imagining this, wasn’t imagining the most - just the most all-the-good-words man he’d ever seen.

If it was up to Stiles, they’d have the wedding immediately. Right now. And then everyone would leave and they’d commence with the wedding night.

The staring was getting a bit unnerving though - Stiles wasn’t even sure if the Alpha had blinked yet, and it had been at least a minute since he’d started studying the man.

Then he did blink, eyes flashing red and they were turning around and leaving just as fast.

The silence stretched for a long, awkward moment before Stiles broke it with a nervous voice.

“Did he not like me?”

Deaton shook his head. “If he didn’t like you we’d know.”

“Well that’s not very reass-”

“They were riding giant wolves!” Scott half yelled, and Stiles flinched back from him. Shout right in his ear, why don’t ya? “Was I seriously the only one to notice that?

The words caught up to Stiles and he gaped. He’d been so busy staring at the riders - he’d just assumed they were horses.

“Are you sure they weren’t just like… _really_ furry horses?” Stiles asked.

“I must have forgotten to tell you.” Deaton said, voice neutral but in a smug way. The man got off on withholding information, Stiles just knew it.

\--

The wedding itself was - well, you couldn’t call it dull, that was for sure.

“Uh.” Stiles said, trying to look away from where the blond woman who had been with the Alpha was getting screwed by the guy built like a War God.

Like, ten feet from where he was sitting.

He focused carefully on where he was sitting instead - on a large and comfortable wooden chair, which was resting on a pedestal. The pedestal itself was covered in gifts - lots of blankets and trunks and tableware and jewelry and stuff.

Deaton entered his line of vision - where it had strayed back to the blond woman and her very loud moans - bearing a large-ish ornate box.

“You know, you didn’t really have to get me anything.” Stiles said as he made grabby hands at the box.

Deaton raised an eyebrow but handed it over. “Oh, I know.” he said dryly. “But these belong to you, or close enough.”

Stiles opened the lid, mouth falling open as he took in the three scaled eggs on blue velvet.

“No way. Are these what I think they are?”

“Dragon eggs. They’ve turned to stone over the centuries, but they’re still a piece of your history.”

Stiles nodded, feeling a little choked up. This was a piece of home in his hands, and he could almost hear his mother’s voice teaching him the names of the dragon skulls that lined the Great Hall.

Then Deaton was doing this respectful bow Stiles only ever saw in public, and Scott was stepping up.

“Bro!” Stiles said happily, leaning forward to tug him into a hug. There was a low growl on his right and he pushed Scott behind him reflexively as he grabbed a pretty-but-functional dagger that he’d kept close to cut his food with.

He relaxed - slightly - when he saw it was the Alpha and lowered the knife, even if he didn’t set it down.

“Dude - I mean, uh, most honorable Alpha, this is my brother. Scott. Please don’t growl at him?”

Stiles words seemed to snap the Alpha out of his red eyed growly face. The Alpha honest to Gods _blushed_ , and Stiles had to bite back a laugh.

“Thanks.” he said, and his amusement must have been clearer than he thought because the Alpha gave a very small growl and flashed his eyes.

It was sort of adorable.

The blond woman approached then, looking fucked out and stinking of sex, even to Stiles’ nose. She smiled with closed lips, bowing low.

“Den Mother, I, Erica Reyes present to you my life and my shift if you would accept it.”

“... sure?” Stiles asked, making a face at Scott: _What the fuck?_

Scott made one back: _Dude, don’t ask me._

Erica straightened up, smile even wider. “In gratitude I would give to you a slave, Allison.”

She gestured, and a girl with sharp cheekbones, dark hair and a dimpled smile approached to kneel.

Stiles glanced at Scott - because he didn’t like slavery, was pretty against it actually - for help. Scott was too busy looking love stricken to acknowledge him. Stiles looked back at Allison, and the way she’d begun to blush, staring at Scott. He sighed and rubbed his forehead.

Well now he’d _have_ to keep her.

“I uh, thank you for your gift. Good job.” he nodded, wishing that Deaton wasn’t such an asshole and had told him the traditional responses. “Allison, you can sit next to Scott.” That didn’t sound like he was addressing a slave though. “And entertain him. Yeah.”

Marginally better.

Erica gave one last bow before - thank fuck - going away. Her boyfriend replaced her almost immediately, and Stiles suppressed a groan.

“Den Mother, I, Vernon Boyd, present to you my life and my shift.”

“Coolio.” Stiles said, wincing as soon as the word left his mouth.

Vernon - and no, he couldn’t think of him like that it was too fucking weird - _Boyd_ gave a head bow of acknowledgement.

“In gratitude I would give you books from the continent of Westeros.”

Boyd handed the books over, but not nearly fast enough for Stiles’ liking.

“Oh my Gods! Thank you, seriously I mean-” it occurred to him slightly too late that it might not be polite to show this much enthusiasm over Boyd’s gift when he was just mildly disgusted with Erica’s. “I mean, these are neat. Thanks.”

There was a snort from beside him, and he turned his head to glare at the Alpha and was met with judging eyebrows and a smirk. _Rude._

When he turned his head back, there was the curly haired boy. Unlike the others, he looked somewhat terrified to be talking to Stiles and kneeled with head bowed as he spoke.

“Den Mother, I, Isaac Lahey, present to you my life and shift.” he said in a trembling voice.

“Thank you,” Stiles said, grinning easily. “Come on, you can stand up.”

Isaac trembled as he stood, pulling his hands from behind the back and holding his gift out towards Stiles. “In gratitude I would give you armor.”

“Oh!” Stiles took it, running hands down the leather. He didn’t know much about armor, but it was beautiful as well as feeling soft and flexible. There was a dragon embroidered beside a wolf, and he whistled lowly at the detail. “Thank you, it’s beautiful. Good job.”

Isaac perked up at the praise before bowing so low that his head nearly touched the ground. He headed away with a bounce in his step.

The dark haired woman that had been directly beside the Alpha earlier approached confidently, her bow more of a respectful nod and a wink for the Alpha. Stiles raised an eyebrow.

He didn’t share people well, never had.

“Den Mother, I, Laura Hale and sister of the Alpha, would pledge to you my life and my loyalty.”

The change in words threw him a little, and he had a feeling he was supposed to say something special here, but he didn’t know what. He glared at Deaton, who shrugged apathetically.

Fantastic.

“That would be awesome, I totally accept.” he finally settled on.

Laura raised an eyebrow but let it slide.

“As the newest member of my household, I would present to you a girl to educate you in our customs and history.”

Oh, thank fuck. Now he could know every way he went wrong today.

She motioned and a strawberry blond girl strode forward. The girl dropped to a kneeling position and Stiles winced, because that felt wrong. Not to mention that the only person besides Isaac - who was scared out of his mind - that knelt was a slave.

This girl didn’t strike him as scared.

“My name is Lydia, Den Mother. I am honored to serve you.” she said smoothly.

Okay, so he might not have the magical power to tell if someone was lying like the Packs did, but even he knew that was bullshit.

“Uh huh.” he said doubtfully. “Do you want to sit with Scott and Allison?”

“Yes, Den Mother.” Lydia said, making no move to get up.

“Go.. do that.. then. I guess.”

“Yes, Den Mother.” Lydia finally stood up and Stiles let out a quiet (to him, every Pack member within thirty feet heard it) sigh.

When Lydia took her place beside Allison and Scott, Laura retreated. And then the Alpha was grabbing his hand, tugging until Stiles stood beside him.

“What’s going on?” he hissed frantically at Deaton, walking forward as slowly as he could.

“The wedding night.” Deaton said and he was laughing on the inside, Stiles just knew it. Sick bastard.

Stiles couldn’t find it within himself to be super scared - after all, the Alpha was hot like burning. But he had the experience of a teenage virgin, and a vague worry that if he was bad enough in bed the Alpha would divorce him and he’d have to go live with Deaton till he _died._

The people around them parted respectfully, conversations quieting a little but not dying out completely. Stiles relaxed somewhat at that - he wouldn’t know what to do if everyone went silent and just _stared._ Probably try and crawl inside the Alpha’s skin to hide.

They came to a stop in front of two direwolves, each as big as a horse and not nearly as friendly looking. One was an albino, pure white with red eyes and a playful grin. The other was black with blue eyes that glared at him judgingly, and Stiles glanced at the Alpha.

He could definitely see the resemblance.

“I, Alpha Derek Hale, gift to you, my moon and stars, a wolf so you can run with our Pack.” Derek guided him to the side of the white wolf.

Woah, okay then. He was supposed to… ride this. He gulped, and the fear must have been incredibly obvious because Derek gripped the back of his neck and rubbed a soothing circle with his thumb.

Or at least, it was probably supposed to be soothing. Instead Stiles was incredibly aware of every point where their skin touched. He must have looked as painfully turned on as he was because the crowd erupted in cat calls and wolf whistles.

Derek growled a little under his breath, and Stiles sucked in a sharp breath. He appreciated that his husband was a such hot piece of man flesh, he really did, but he would appreciate it more if his dick would stop appreciating it so much.

He had the distinct feeling Derek rolled his eyes at him - stupid Alpha - but Stiles was too busy scrambling to get on his wolf to pay it much attention. The wolf he needed a name for, since he had the strangest feeling ‘Fluffy’ wouldn’t be acceptable.

Stiles finally got up and Fluffy - he’d just use the name as a placeholder in his head - gave a quiet huff of relief. Stiles graciously ignored that, seeing as he had been pulling on Fluffy’s fur like crazy for around five minutes.

Derek got on his wolf gracefully and above all quickly. Stiles may or may not have glared a bit.

Then Derek was starting forward in a gallop and Fluffy was racing after him, Stiles holding on for dear life. Because holy _shit_ , but had Derek never heard of a thing called goddamn warning? This was his first time riding bareback on a giant wolf, excuse him for wanting a chance to properly grab on.

They flew through forest for what felt like forever, a constant battle to not just slide off Fluffy’s back and crash to the ground. He’d probably die, which would be a shame.

By the time they stopped in a clearing, Stiles hands were killing him and he’d plotted out most of his funeral.

Derek slid off of his wolf like it was second nature - _which it probably was_ \- and helped - _pulled_ \- Stiles off Fluffy.

“So.” Stiles said awkwardly, looking around for a topic of conversation. His eyes landed on the large-ish tent, and he cleared his throat.

“So.” he said again, but with more squeak to it.

He was going to have _sex._

He was probably dreaming. Tomorrow he’d wake up and talk to Scott over breakfast: _Yeah, and I arranged a marriage between this Pack and their Alpha - no, Scott, Deaton told me exactly why they use wolf terms he’s that kind of guy. And anyways, they rode giant wolves and were going to help us take back our home and then I had sex with my really hot husb-_

Stiles was jolted out of his thoughts by Derek’s hand on his shoulder. Derek slowly steered him towards the tent and yes, okay, he was all for the direction things were moving in.

The inside of the tent was basically blankets and pillows on top of a thick carpet. Stiles’ feet sunk into the plush feel of it, and he stared down at the way his foot looked against the deep brown.

He’d kept on the outfit Derek had given him - he didn’t have anything else like it, nothing he could wear to a wedding if that was the style of clothing Derek wanted him in.

“You know.” Derek said, and Stiles glanced at him. He looked - well under what Stiles’ assumed was his default I’ll rip your throat out with my teeth expression he looked almost… scared? “We don’t have to.” then he muttered something.

“Don’t have to what?” Stiles said, greatly confused.

Derek flushed a little. “Uh, the marriage.”

“Sorry buddy, but it’s a little late to back out on that.” Stiles said with an unimpressed look. There were presents exchanged, for God’s sake.

“Consummate,” Derek said, flushing even further. “We don’t have to consummate it.”

“Do you not _want_ to fuck me?” Stiles asked, feeling… he didn’t want to think about how he was feeling.

“Do you want me to?” Derek asked.

“I asked you first.”

“I’m the Alpha.”

“I’m the True King and the Den Mother.”

“I could kill you.”

“But you won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to. But we are going to jerk off at the very least, because this place needs to stink like cum and so do we. People are nosy, they’ll notice.”

“They won’t care.”

“Well maybe I care!” Stiles half yelled. “Maybe I care that apparently I’m not good enough for someone I’m tied to for the rest of my goddamn life to fuck!”

“It’s not that you’re - you’re perfect.” Derek said, and Stiles snorted, because Derek had made a face like the words hurt to say. “You’re just. Young.”

Stiles swallowed back whatever snippy response he might have had when he heard Derek’s next words.

“Some things happened when I was younger. I can’t -” he stopped with a small growl, then just looked at Stiles’ pleadingly.

He looked like he needed a hug.

Stiles sighed and gave him one. Derek wasn’t a very good hugger, mostly because he seemed to not know what to do with his… anything.

“We don’t have to.” Stiles said again, softer. “But I really would appreciate it if you, you know, gave me some cum I could shove up my ass.”

Derek snorted. “I was prepared for all eventualities.”

Then he stepped out of the hug and flipped up the edge of one of the blankets. When he stood back up he was holding a small glass vial.

“Oh my Gods is that-” Stiles cracked up.

Derek grinned bashfully, ducking his head, and Stiles just laughed harder.

He was going to fall in love with the Alpha, and there was nothing he could do about it.

 _Gods_ , he thought. _Gods, I am so fucked._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> on tumblr at [this gorgeous blog ;)](ang3lba3.tumblr.com)


End file.
